Spotlight

Ian Nairn

A friend messaged me last week: ‘I picked this up in a charity shop last week—have you got it?’. Below was a picture of her clutching a copy of Nairn’s London with its cheery-looking author driving a Routemaster bus on its cover.

The book was originally published by Penguin in 1966, and soon became a must-have guide for architecture students. I first came across it, and Nairn, when it was republished in 2014 with an afterword by the now-late architectural historian Gavin Stamp.

My first edition copy of Nairn’s London, published by Penguin in 1966

I’m not sure if it was a coincidence or if I simply began noticing it due to my own interest, but when I started my Tumblr blog over a decade ago, there seemed to be a wealth of material on post-war architecture being reissued or republished. Among them was a great series of documentaries chosen by Janet Street-Porter: Post-War Architecture: A collection of programmes examining the triumphs and failures of post-war architecture available on BBC iPlayer. One of the documentaries in the series was an episode of Omnibus from 1969 The More We Are Together. Presented by Nairn, the programme focuses on Eric Lyons, the architect behind Span Developments—the private modern housing schemes built largely on the fringes of South London.

My friend’s SMS prompted me to watch it again last weekend, on a grey and wet Sunday afternoon, and was I reminded of Nairn’s brilliance. He wanders around Parkleys in Ham near Richmond, Span’s first development, enthusiastically praising the architecture and its planning. He then moves on to the slightly later schemes of Blackheath, Twickenham and Weybridge where he is confronted by various signs stating ‘Private’ and ‘Trespassers will be prosecuted’. You can see him physically wince — the very idea of a middle-class private estate with its segregation of people was, to Nairn—who lived in Pimlico—the antithesis of what London is about. There’s a line in the film where he refers to Span residents as an inbred society, or something to that effect, and accuses the developers of creating an extra level of smugness in its residents (you can judge for yourself in a recent film about Span by Chocolate Films: Living in Span Homes).

Nairn wandering around Span’s Parkleys estate in Ham

The outspoken Nairn was born in Bedford in 1930 (although his death certificate states Newcastle—his spiritual home) and raised in Frimley, Surrey. He joined the RAF as a young man, and it was whilst flying across Britain that he began to question what was happening to the country’s towns. With this unique perspective, he could see towns sprawling into the countryside. In 1955, with no architectural background, formal training, or any intention of becoming a historian, he travelled from Southampton to Carlisle in his Morris Minor and wrote Outrage—a blistering critique of post-war urban planning. He coined the term ‘subtopia’ to describe the creeping blandness of Britain’s towns and suburbs, railing against the soulless monotony of modern development. The tenacious 24-year-old impressed Architectural Review editor Hubert de Cronin Hastings, who published Outrage in the June 1955 issue and solidified Nairn’s name as a fresh opinionated young voice in architectural criticism. Outrage inspired the birth of the Civic Trust in 1959, whose primary aim was to promote civic pride, improve the built environment, and encourage community participation in enhancing towns and cities. Forever the outsider and anti-establishment figure, Nairn refused to join.

He went on to write for the Daily Telegraph, The Observer, and The Sunday Times and presented a long run of films for the BBC in the 1960s and 1970s. A tireless traveller, he explored Britain and Europe (he had a particular soft spot for Belgium apparently) and co-authored the Surrey (1962) and Sussex (1965) volumes of Nikolaus Pevsner’s indispensable The Buildings of England series.

In one of the pubs in Lillington Gardens which he referred to as his office

He did much of his writing in pubs, writing all his articles in long hand in little notebooks, and was often found at St George’s Tavern in Pimlico, where for years a photograph of him hung on the wall. Retracing some of his footsteps, I am currently typing this in The Pride of Pimlico—one of the pubs he frequented, designed by Darbourne and Darke and integrated into their Grade II-listed Lillington Gardens. His film on Pimlico’s two pioneering post-war schemes Churchill Gardens and Lillington Gardens, No Two the Same, available on BFI Player, is worth a watch. Funny, acerbic and poetic, he had a way with words I can only dream of as I sit here trying to drown out the locals effin' and jeffin' on the table next to me. The pub is still very much a locals establishment, which I think he would have appreciated. Although he saw himself as a man of the people and loved the hustle and bustle of Londoners from diverse backgrounds and incomes coming together, he was a shy man, and in his interviews, he looks awkward and wooden. He wasn’t a natural presenter, but it somehow makes him more endearing to watch.

Initially optimistic about the ‘brave new world’ of modern architecture, Nairn became increasingly disillusioned with planners and architects. In his BBC programme Nairn Across Britain, first broadcast in 1972, he revisits the towns he documented in Outrage and is visibly depressed and emotional at what he sees—buildings turned to rubble and replaced with bland, mediocre alternatives. By the late 1970s, he was writing less and less.

Jonathan Meades attempted to coax the now largely forgotten literary figure to write for Tatler in 1980. ‘It was like watching someone dissolve in front of your eyes,’ Meades said. ‘I’ve seldom seen a less healthy-looking person. His lunch was 14 pints of beer. He looked dropsical. It was as if his whole career had been a graph of disillusionment, and all that was left was an abyss‘.

Ian Nairn

Nairn visiting tenants in Churchill Gardens

Outrage, published in the Architectural Review in 1955

Outrage, published in the Architectural Review in 1955

During his last TV programmes, Nairn's Journeys broadcast in 1978, Nairn wanders the country again but appears half-cut most of the time. Tragically, in 1983, just shy of his 53rd birthday, Nairn died of cirrhosis of the liver.

With the Labour Party’s recent shake-up of planning rules, where councils are now given mandatory targets to deliver a total of 370,000 homes a year, and a review of the green belt boundaries, Nairn’s critique of mediocre suburban sprawl remains as relevant today as it was in his lifetime. Fortunately, many of his TV programmes are available to watch online, and several of his books have been republished by Notting Hill Editions.

To mark 70 years since its publication, they are reissuing Outrage next February (£16.99). To coincide with its release, the Twentieth Century Society will hold Nairn Night: a book launch and panel discussion on Wednesday 5 February 2025, from 6.30—8 pm, featuring Travis Elborough, Gillian Darley, Hugh Pearman, and Gareth Gardner. Tickets are available here.

Available on BFI Player for free: No Two The Same

Available on BBC iPlayer: Nairn Across Britain

Omnibus: The More We Are Together